


Descent

by CaiyaAmatista



Category: Destroyer (2018), Sebastian Stan Fandom
Genre: Character Death, Choices, Danger, Death, Deception, Duty, F/M, FBI, Falling In Love, Forbidden Love, Lies, Love, Sebastian Stan - Freeform, Secrets, Self-Reflection, Taking Risks, Undercover, Undercover Missions, Undercover as a Couple
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-28
Updated: 2019-01-28
Packaged: 2019-10-18 04:26:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17573855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaiyaAmatista/pseuds/CaiyaAmatista
Summary: A short reflection piece told from Chris' point-of-view.  The choices we make can have dire consequences, and if you're not careful, you can become lost to a darkness you never knew existed inside you...





	Descent

Did I go into this knowing I would die for her?  Fuck, no.  And if anyone had tried to insinuate otherwise, I’d have promptly told ‘em to fuck off.  The job was what mattered, first and foremost.  Years of psychological training; of learning how to study your enemies; of forcing your body to adjust to pain so you’d know what to expect in a fight; of taking a punch to the jaw and tasting your own blood in your mouth; of understanding how it feels to take a life when you absolutely _have_ to.  All of it preparing you with one goal in mind: complete the mission, regardless of the cost.  That’s how it was supposed to go when they assigned Erin to this job with me.

But somehow…Somehow along the way, she managed to get under my skin. 

Sounds so fucked up saying that now, that someone as green as her had gotten to me.  I’ve worked a few other covert ops before, sometimes partnered with other women, making it look like a there was a convincing relationship between us.  That was just part of the job.  It seemed like she understood that when she was brought in, and played her part very convincingly.

But it didn’t last.  I remember the very moment that things started to go wrong, and it was when she’d pulled me into that room.  I was under the impression that she had news for me, some critical piece of information that needed our careful attention, but that wasn’t the case.  Instead, she was placing my hands on her, a foreign look in her eyes as she started kissing me.  Her kiss; it was far different from what she’d demonstrated at that bar.  It was impassioned, hungry.  _Real_.  I could tell right away that it was something I needed to stop before we completely fucked things up.

But I didn’t.  Instead, I kissed her back.  Got lost in it.  Took it farther than she and I were supposed to.  Got involved.  Cardinal rule number one: you _never_ get involved during an assignment, especially one as dangerous as this.  But I did.  Tangled up in those sheets, feeling the smoothness of her skin pressed against mine, I ended up falling for her, and any questions regarding her motives fled from my mind.  I should have questioned her, though.  The next day.  Or the day after.  Or the day after that.  Perhaps I’d been alone too long myself.  Or maybe part of me didn’t want to really understand.  Love fucks you up like that. 

Even when she did eventually confess her desire to leave the force—and for me to follow—I could tell there was something driving her decision.  Not the money, not the chance for a better life—Christ, who doesn’t fantasize about that?—not even me.  No.  This was something she wasn’t voicing aloud.  The determination in her eyes alone was unlike anything I’d seen up until that moment, and I couldn’t put my finger on what else I was seeing.  Desperation?  Perhaps even fear?

What were you hiding from me, Erin?

Nevertheless, I didn’t press her.  I warned her, reminded her of potential repercussions, tried to give her an out…but ultimately, it was what she wanted, and I did nothing to stop things from going into motion.  As bad as her plan was, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want that, too.  With her.  Something about her had me ensnared, and was dragging me further and further into an abyss deep within myself, a chasm from which I knew there’d be no escape.  A place where I hardly recognized myself anymore, but where I longed to remain, just so long as she was with me.   

And so we became accomplices in a scheme that would lead to a better, brighter future for us.  But life’s a cruel bitch, and she’s constantly there to remind you that your expectations don’t mean shit, especially when you already know the consequences of your actions.  The instant that dye pack went off in Silas’ bag, I knew people were gonna die.  Innocent people who simply wanted to live.  That thought alone is what drew me back, renewed my sense of duty to the job I’d vowed to carry out, my ongoing quest to bring further justice to the world, regardless of my wants or needs.    

That had to come first.  Always.

Yanking off my mask, I locked eyes with Erin, and it was clear from her unwavering expression that she’d already deciphered my intentions.  Despite her silent protests to me, I’d made my choice, and this time, it couldn’t be her. 

_Please…_

No. 

I ran back into that building, my gun drawn and ready, just as I’d been trained.  I had a chance to end this, to prevent any unnecessary death.  As I leveled my gun on Silas—the man whose trust I had strategically gained over the past few months—there was no hesitation on my end.  None.  Just clarity and purpose.     

“FBI—!”     

* * *

It’s incredible how much that clarity is magnified in death, how much more you come to understand about the people who were most important in your life when you’re no longer in the same plane of existence.  The depths of the secrets they fought to keep from you because they knew it would influence your decisions.     

Erin…you should have told me.


End file.
